


A Little Birdie Told Me

by SpeedOfSnake



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Bad Poetry, M/M, moomin is confused but he's trying, supposed to be set in mv2019 ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeedOfSnake/pseuds/SpeedOfSnake
Summary: Moomin doesn’t understand why Snufkin would want a bird, but if that’s the best way to woo a Mumrik, then he won’t question it.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	A Little Birdie Told Me

**Author's Note:**

> My goal for this fic was to make it in character for Moominvalley 2019 (at least more so than my previous fics). It doesn't completely agree with canon but I tried ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Today is the day”, Moomin told himself. “No more backing out!”  
He watched Snufkin fishing from his room. All he had to do was open his window, climb down the ladder, go straight up to Snufkin and tell him he loves him.  
“No, no, no!” Moomin turned away from the window. “I can’t do that! If I say it outright like that then Snufkin will feel pressured.”  
Snufkin didn’t like feeling caged or weighed down, but Moomin’s feelings were quite heavy. He had to make sure that Snufkin felt perfectly fine telling Moomin “No.” Even if that would break Moomin’s heart into a thousand pieces.  
  
“If I hypothetically said I loved you, what would you think?” Moomin practiced. “No, that’s basically the same as saying it outright.”  
Moomin paced around his room.  
“Hey Snufkin! Guess who I’m in love with? Oh, but what if he doesn’t guess himself?”  
He leaned against his bookshelf. “Lovely day isn’t it Snufkin? But not as lovely as you! Nope. That’s awful.”  
“Why does this have to be so difficult?” he wailed. Moomin plopped down on the edge of his bed and buried his head in his hands. “Wait! I can ask Papa! I’m sure he had experience with Mamma.”  
  
“Papa?” he stuck his head through the study door.  
“Hm?” Moominpappa replied from his desk. He was poring over his latest work, looking for errors.  
Moomin let the rest of himself into the room. “I was wondering…” he wrung his hands. “How would you- um, how can you tell someone you love them without, actually telling them you love them?”

“Ah I see,” Moominpappa put his papers down. “Which cards should you show that won’t reveal the whole deck!”  
“Err- yeah, sure.”  
“Poetry always does the trick!” He stood and walked over to his bookshelf. “You can recount your deepest feelings, while also keeping them secret!” He placed a book in Moomin’s hands.  
“Poetry…” Moomin wasn’t convinced. He opened the book to a page at random and started reading.  
“But it really depends on who these feelings are for,” another voice said from above.  
Moomin almost dropped the book. The Joxter was lying on top of the bookshelf.  
“If it was a Mumrik for example,” he rolled onto his back. “The best way would be to hunt a bird. Then leave it outside their door.”  
“A bird?” Moomin repeated.  
“Pah,” Moominpappa said. “That’s hardly romantic! Trust me son, poetry is the way to go.”  
“Er- thanks for the advice.” He backed towards the door. “I’m going to read this now. Bye!”  
  
He rushed back to his room. He wouldn’t have asked if he knew the Joxter was there! He didn’t know, did he? He was probably just saying what he, as a Mumrik would want! There was no way he knew Moomin was talking about Snufkin. He hoped…  
“A bird though?” Moomin wondered aloud. What would Snufkin do with a bird? He wasn’t one for keeping pets. Maybe it was a weird Mumrik thing…  
But if it was a Mumrik thing, then maybe Snufkin would like it. It couldn’t hurt right?  
  
As soon as Snufkin disappeared into his tent, Moomin snuck out of his room with a birdcage and a net.  
  
It took all day to catch the bird. Moomins weren’t quite known for their stealth.  
The bird peeped angrily from the cage.  
“Hush,” Moomin said. “I’m not going to eat you! In fact I have a lot of juicy worms at home for you to snack on, so just calm down please.”  
The bird peeped again in response.  
  
He managed to get back to his room without anyone noticing.  
“As promised,” he poured a bunch of worms into the cage. “Finish those up and maybe I’ll get you some more.”  
The bird happily gobbled the worms up.  
“The worms would probably be a better gift for Snufkin,” Moomin muttered.  
He was soon called down for dinner. He poured a few more worms into the cage. “Not a peep from you, alright?”  
The bird stared at him and peeped just once in defiance.  
Moomin rolled his eyes and went down for dinner.  
  
The bird was fast asleep when he got back. The bird was quite cute, but not really romantic. “Maybe Papa is right.” He eyed the book of poetry on his table. “Guess I can try.”  
  
He cleared his throat and knelt on one knee, as if serenading Snufkin.  
 _“Oh wonderful Snufkin with face so fair,  
_ _framed by beautiful chestnut hair!”  
_ “Hm, not a bad start…”  
 _“When I see you my heart does swell,  
_ _like I’ve fallen in a well!”  
  
_ “No that doesn’t sound right… How about… _For you in love, I have fell!_ ”  
“Yeah, that’s great that’s- oh no hold on.” Moomin stood up. “But the point is that I _don’t_ tell him how I feel. I have to _imply_ it! Okay, okay, starting again!”  
  
He picked an imaginary daisy from the floor and held it in front of him.  
 _“More beautiful than any flower,  
_ _over me you have total power.”  
  
_ “Still too obvious, isn’t it?” He dropped the imaginary flower. “Maybe a metaphor?”  
 _“In spring, the sun melts the snow,  
_ _and in its place, flowers grow.”  
  
_ “But what if he doesn’t get it?” Moomin paced back and forth. “What if I focused on him, and not my feelings? Everyone likes a nice compliment!”  
He cleared his throat again and closed his eyes, picturing Snufkin in his mind.  
“ _Your eyes are brown like the deepest earth, where flowers sprout forth and_ \- no, no I can’t compare his eyes to _dirt_. They’re much prettier than that! But then what can I compare them to?”  
  
He remembered earlier that week, when Snufkin had told him a story. They had sat so close that Moomin could see every emotion reflected in his eyes and he had felt-  
“So warm. Warm... like hot chocolate! The kind that seeps into your bones and warms you right up. And it’s so sweet… sweet like your voice, when you tell me stories and jokes and- when you laugh-” his heart fluttered as he imaged the sound, “my heart can’t contain all the love It feels. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you happy-”  
He reached towards the imaginary Snufkin but his hands met empty air and he was snapped out of his daydream. Opening his eyes, he was met with the gaze of a tired bird. The bird peeped mockingly.  
  
Moomin flushed. He had let himself get carried away. He was supposed to be writing poetry!  
“It’s not easy you know!”  
The bird peeped again.  
  
“This is so stupid! I’m no good at poetry!” He kicked his bed. “Why can’t I just tell him?”  
He sat down on his bed. “It’d be so much easier, if I could sit beside him on the bridge, take his hand,” he took an imaginary Snufkin’s hand “and say, Snufkin, I love you.” He stared into the empty space beside him. He let his paw fall.  
“No, I can’t. I can’t risk our friendship. I can do this.” He stood up.  
  
Maybe it was best to stay away from his appearance. Afterall, Moomin didn’t love him because of his looks.  
 _“You bring adventure wherever you are,  
_ _and your stories that you bring from so far,  
_ _with the wonderful songs that you play,  
_ _you always make for a beautiful day.  
_ _It really doesn’t matter what we do,  
_ _It’s always an adventure when I’m with you”  
  
_ He looked at the bird expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”  
The bird peeped, unimpressed.  
“I know, I know, the wording is awkward, and the number of syllables is wrong, but it’s a start, right?” He poured some worms into the cage. “I just need to work on getting the perfect words!”  
  
He paced back and forth. “Maybe- _you bring adventure wherever you go, when you’re here the days never slow_. That’s not much better though…”  
  
The bird blinked sleepily at the pacing troll. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.  
  


***

Moomin continued rewording his poem until the first rays of dawn hit his window.  
“Morning already? I’m not even close to being done!” He looked at the bird. “Well, I can try plan A anyways. Snufkin is sure to still be asleep.”  
Moomin snuck out of the window with the bird, adding a few more worms for good measure. He gently placed the cage with the sleeping bird outside Snufkin’s tent.  
“Okay bird”, he whispered. “It’s all up to you!”  
  
Moomin hurried back to his room and sat by the windowsill, waiting for Snufkin to wake up. He closed his eyes to concentrate on rewording his poem but was soon fast asleep, dreams of Snufkin filling his head.  
  


***

Snufkin awoke slowly, letting the sound of chirping birds gently coax him awake. Judging by the light around him, he had missed the sunrise. It didn’t bother him too much as the sunrise was quite early that time of the year. He yawned and slowly tied his boots as he thought about the day. Maybe he should carve himself a new lure. He was sure they had some paint he could borrow at Moominhouse.  
  
He opened the flap to his tent and almost tripped. There was a bird cage on the ground! Inside a swallow slept peacefully.  
Snufkin knelt down and studied the cage. _’Could this be some kind of threat?’_ he shuddered at the thought. He hadn’t even done anything illegal recently, no reason for someone to want to lock him up.  
Snufkin opened the cage door. “Good morning Mister Swallow.”  
The bird stirred but did not awaken.  
“Good morning,” he repeated a little louder.  
The bird ruffled his feathers. “It’s too early for this,” the bird grumbled.  
“Please, I need you to tell me who put you in here.”  
“It was that big fluffy white thing at the top of the tower.” The bird nodded towards Moominhouse.  
“Top of the-?” Snufkin looked up. “Moomintroll?”  
  
Why would Moomin give him a caged bird? Certainly, Moomin didn’t want to threaten Snufkin. He had gotten over the phase where he demanded Snufkin stay in the winter and he knew Snufkin needed his freedom… right?  
Snufkin shook his head. There must be an explanation for this. Maybe it was some kind of message. Was Moomin in trouble?  
  
“Mr. Swallow,” Snufkin said.  
The bird was shaken out of his doze. “Hm- what?”  
“Did Moomin say something to you?”  
“Say something?” the bird scoffed. “He certainly did.”  
“I need you to tell me what he said.”  
“Well, I can’t remember everything, since he just went on and on-”  
“Whatever you can tell me,” Snufkin insisted.  
“What was the first things he said… ah yes, something about a face so fair, and chestnut hair.”  
Snufkin blinked. Not what he was expecting to hear. Was this some kind of code?  
  
“ _You fill my heart with so much light, you are my sun that shines so bright._ ”  
“…sun?”  
“What else, what else… _your lips softer than a rose, how I long to kiss your nose._ Hah! He was quite embarrassed by that one.”  
“Um.” Snufkin was beginning to think there was no code.  
“He said a lot of stuff honestly. But he really just went on for hours and hours about how much he loved this Snufkin guy.”  
Snufkin was lucky he was kneeling, otherwise he certainly would have fallen over.  
“He said…?” Snufkin attempted to wrap his mind around the information.  
“Oh, but it wasn’t all bad, he said some sweet stuff too,” the bird picked out a loose feather. “Something about _whenever we’re together, it feels like an adventure_.”  
The bird left him to his reeling thoughts as he picked out another feather.  
“And… he wanted you to tell me this?”  
“Oh no- I’m sure he didn’t want anyone hearing it!” The bird twittered in delight. “Serves him right! Locking me up then not letting me sleep! At least he gave me plenty of worms.” The bird hopped out of his cage. “Well I guess I’m not going back to sleep today! Bye now!” And with that he took flight, leaving Snufkin to stare blankly at the space he occupied a moment ago.  
  
“He… loves me?” he asked the empty cage. His eyes found Moomin’s window. “He loves me?”  
Snufkin let out a quiet laugh. “He loves me...”  
He wanted to dance, or sing, or something. Instead he calmly put the cage away in his tent.  
  
He lay back onto his sleeping bag, clutching his hat to his chest. “He loves me.” He grinned.  
He was pretty sure Moomin hadn’t meant for his feelings to be revealed, but he was certainly glad for it.  
  
He hoped Moomin woke up soon.  
  


***

  
Little My slammed open the door to announce breakfast. Moomin jolted awake and fell from the windowsill. Shaking his head to get rid of the sleepiness, he peeked out the window. _‘Snufkin’s awake! And the bird cage is gone. Did he see it then? Did he like it?’  
_ Moomin stood tall. ‘ _Only one way to find out!_ ’

He ignored his rumbling stomach and opened his window. Once he had climbed down the ladder, he waved to Snufkin, who waved back.  
“Okay. Stay cool,” he said to himself before walking casually over to Snufkin.  
  
“Good morning Snufkin,” he leaned on the ledge of the bridge where Snufkin was fishing.  
“Morning,” he replied.  
Moomin tapped his fingers on the ledge. “So…” he cleared his throat. “Anything interesting happen today?” Moomin internally winced. _‘Way to be obvious!’  
_ “Yes, actually,” Snufkin said. “I encountered a bird outside my tent.”  
“Was it a… good bird?” _‘What kind of questions was that?’  
_ “Yes, in fact I had quite a nice chat with him.”  
“Oh,” Moomin froze. _Oh no. Oh no no no._ “He didn’t happen to tell you anything weird, did he?”  
“Nothing too strange,” Snufkin recast the line. “Although, he did recite some interesting poetry.”  
Moomin groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot you can talk to birds!” he wailed. That was it. Moomin would have to jump into the river and let it carry him off to a new life. He already messed this one up enough!  
  
“I must say, it’s quite a roundabout way of talking to me,” Snufkin slowly reeled in his line. “Wouldn’t it be better to say these things directly?”  
Moomin paused in his lamenting and peeked out of his hands. “Am I… allowed to say it?”  
Snufkin shot him a quizzical look before he continued unhooking the fish on his line. “You can say whatever’s on your mind.”  
“Well, in that case,” Moomin took and deep breath, steeling his nerves. He turned to Snufkin. “Snufkin, I’m in love with you.”  
Snufkin fumbled with the fish and dropped it in the water.  
Moomin watched as the fish was carried away by the current. “You must have already known this from what the bird said!”  
“Well- yes- but… hearing it directly from you is different!” Snufkin pulled his hat over his face.  
Moomin crossed his arms. “You… you said I could say whatever I wanted so there’s no takebacks!”  
“I certainly don’t want you to take it back.”  
“You… don’t?”  
“Nope. In fact, I’m quite glad you said it.” Snufkin put another worm on the hook.  
Moomin’s heart accelerated. “Oh? And why is that?”  
“Well,” Snufkin cleared his throat. “Because I feel the same way.”  
“You do?”  
“Yup,” he recast. He held the rod with one hand and used his knees to stabilize it. This left one hand free, which lay beside him on the ledge. Moomin glanced at his hand sneakily. He then, very suavely, placed his hand on top of Snufkin’s. For a moment, Snufkin didn’t move. Then, he flipped his hand over and grabbed Moomin’s.  
  
They stayed there peacefully until Snufkin had to take his hand back to reel in his line. “I have to ask though,” Snufkin said as he unhooked the fish. “Why did you give me a bird?”  
“Well uh, I may have heard from… somewhere, that giving a bird was the appropriate way to woo one such as yourself?” Moomin wanted to avoid admitting that he asked his father for advice.  
“By giving me a bird?” Snufkin dropped the fish into his bucket. “Where did you get this information?”  
“I might have heard it from the Joxter,” Moomin mumbled reluctantly.  
“The Jox-” Snufkin cut off as he understood. He laughed.  
“What? Why are you laughing?”  
“You know when cats leave dead birds as gifts for their owners?” Snufkin asked once he caught his breath.  
“Yes?” Moomin didn’t like where this was going.  
“Well, he was suggesting you do that.”  
Moomin stared incredulously at Snufkin. “I wouldn’t kill a bird as a present!”  
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Snufkin’s hand found Moomin’s again. “I much prefer birds when they’re alive.”  
  
Moomin smiled at their joined hands. Despite the mess he made, everything turned out fine.  
“By the way, when are you going to recite this poetry for me?”  
Or… maybe it didn’t _._

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of silly and definitely didn't have the best writing but oh welllll
> 
> Moomin is canonically good at rhyming but I’m bad at poetry so he is also bad at poetry in this story rip
> 
> The second part was supposed to be fully in Snufkin's pov but I don't think I understand his character well enough to describe all this thoughts. Moomin however is very dramatic and relatable.


End file.
